


Kairos

by Significant_What



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Crossroads, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Melancholy, Parenthood, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Pointless fluff, Post-Season/Series 01, Retired Victor Nikiforov, Retirement, nanowrimo made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Significant_What/pseuds/Significant_What
Summary: kairos(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement





	Kairos

**Author's Note:**

> (nanowrimo is killing me, what am i doing contributing to a new fandom this late)
> 
> my first ever contribution to the yoi fandom, yay! please be gentle.
> 
> just some pointless character study/family fluff/retirement musings i thought of when i heard this one song that i thought would be a really nice exhibition piece for yuuri for his last world championships gala.

It’s hard, being away from your baby for the first time. Yuuri has been passively aware of this for years, has heard when young parents talk about it, but it’s exceedingly different when it’s actually happening to him.

The call had come one late afternoon, four weeks before the world championships. A baby girl, three weeks old, in need of a home as soon as possible. Viktor had cried. Yuuri had cried. Then little Evgenia had been placed in their arms mere hours later, and Viktor had started shaking so much he had to give her to Yuuri and sit down himself.

No one tells you exactly what it’s like to hold your baby for the first time. Not really. Yuuri wonders if that’s because there really aren’t any words to describe it properly. It’s an ethereal experience. Evgenia is warm and small and fragile and _so small_ , and looking at her, realizing that she’s _his_ , she’s _his and Viktor’s_ , it makes Yuuri feel that breathless sort of happiness he has spent almost two decades running after on the ice. They say everything on the ice is love, but there’s no love quite like this, Yuuri is sure.

Yuuri wants to hold Evgenia every hour of every day, but he needs to let Viktor have his turns, too. That part comes rather easily, since Yuuri still needs to train if he wants to end his last year of competitive figure skating on a high note. Viktor dresses their baby in soft pastels and bundles her up in warm clothes, then carries her around the rink in a sling, cooing at her when the noises get a little too loud and she starts to fuss. Viktor still manages to coach while acting the part of a proud father at the same time, and Yuuri works extra hard not to pop his jumps; Viktor in dad-mode is unbelievably attractive.

It’s Yuuri who makes the hard decision and suggests that Viktor stay home with Evgenia while Yuuri goes to the championships in Montreal with Team Yakov. The argument is short and hushed, it starts and ends with Yuuri and Viktor holding hands over a sleeping little baby girl in their bed, and they both know it’s the right decision. Yuuri has always been an independent skater, the biggest thing Viktor has ever been able to give Yuuri during competition is confidence. Evgenia is still way too young to be at the rink side all competition, and Yuuri and Viktor are too new to parenthood to be comfortable to leave her with anyone else.

Yuuri promises to FaceTime from his practice sessions, and Yakov rolls his eyes but promises to hold the phone so Viktor can get footage of Yuuri’s jumps. Yuuri kisses his baby good bye at the airport while Viktor tries to shield her from camera flashes.

He’s never going to admit to anyone, but Yuuri cries the whole plane ride to Montreal. Yuri, twenty years old and still grumpy, doesn’t say a word, just holds his hand and makes sure he drinks more water.

It’s not the same to see Evgenia through his phone screen. Yuuri knows she’s sleeping, anyway, and that Viktor is taking the best possible care of her in his absence, but that doesn’t stop the longing or the worry. It’s like someone has carved a hole in Yuuri’s heart, or stabbed a dagger through it, and every time he wakes up in the middle of the night to phantom cries and remembers he’s alone in the room originally booked for two he feels like crying.

But Yuuri holds his head high and gets through it. For Evgenia. For Viktor. He promised Viktor he’d win gold in his last world championship competition, and that’s exactly what he intends to do. They’ll hang the medal over Evgenia’s bed in the nursery, and Yuuri will remind her every day that he won that medal just for her.

The press tries to ask about the baby they saw Viktor holding at the airport in Russia, but Yakov is a heaven sent and yells them silent. Yuuri builds a surprising bond with JJ Leroy, who has just had his first child, too. Phichit demands to be let in on the shared DropBox folder Yuuri and Viktor have that they have filled with pictures of Evgenia and tells everyone who will listen that his niece is the most precious thing this world has to offer. Yuuri agrees with him.

Yuuri manages. He finishes second in the short program and watches Viktor try to calm Evgenia down in the FaceTime call.

“I think she wants her _chichi_ ”, Viktor says mournfully. Yuuri hates it, hates the dark circles under Viktor’s eyes, hates the fact that they’re half a world away and he can’t just reach out and gather them both in his arms. “But _chichi_ is busy, _solnyshko_. Yes, he is. He’s going to win tomorrow, and we’re going to cheer him on, and then it’s one more day and we’ll be together again – “

“Two.” Yuuri hates, hates, hates long distances. “The flight home takes almost a full day.”

“Zhenya doesn’t need to know that”, Viktor whispers, as if Evgenia can’t hear him, as if she’d understand any of it. “All she needs to know is that _papa_ and _chichi_ love her, and that we’ll be together soon enough, and that she’s the most wonderful girl in all of Russia. And then when we move to Japan she’ll be the most wonderful girl there, too, and everyone there will _love_ her, yes they will…”

Yuuri listens to Viktor babble until he falls asleep, and for a moment it’s almost like he’s back home. He thinks about that when, the next day, he touches down in half of his jumps in the morning practice and turns his quad salchow into a triple.

He needs to do better. Yuuri squares his shoulders and steels his face as he waits for his turn to skate. He needs to show to the world what they’ll be missing once he retires.

Yuuri thinks about Viktor and Zhenya when he takes on the ice that afternoon for his last competitive skate ever. He’s ready. Ready to retire, ready to leave the competitions to the younger generation, ready to move on to other challenges. Ready to live a family life, ready to focus on watching Evgenia grow up, ready to finally properly think about buying a house and moving to Fukuoka and maybe starting that skating school Viktor has been dreaming about for years.

His last jump in the free program is the quad flip, of course it is, and Yuuri lands it flawlessly, already feeling the tears gathering in his eyes as he moves to his final combination spin. When he finishes, and the music stops, Yuuri holds his ending pose for exactly five seconds, one hand extended out towards a camera like he could reach Viktor and Evgenia through it, and then drops to his knees and presses his forehead to the ice. This is it. This is his goodbye. It feels a little sad, and Yuuri knows it will hurt for a while. But it also feels like the right time to take a step back and look how far he’s come.

Sitting with Yakov in the kiss and cry is very different from sitting there with Viktor. It’s not the first time Yakov is taking over for Viktor, but this is the last time for so many things Yuuri feels overwhelmed. He’s pretty sure he can’t yet feel nostalgic about any of this, but still it makes him crack a fond smile when all Yakov has to say about his performance is “It wasn’t terrible.” If someone had told Yuuri five years ago he would one day miss getting feedback from Yakov, he would have laughed, and then cried, and then probably laughed again.

Yuuri doesn’t break his record for combined score, but he beats the record for the free skate by .12 points, set by Yuri in the European Championships just weeks before. He’s almost positive he sees Yakov suppress a smile when his name jumps to the top of the list, even though this means he has beaten Yuri for the gold medal by three points. Yuuri hugs Yakov, and then he hugs Yuri, and Guang-Hong who has come in third, and the three medalists stand in a strange huddle together on the rink side waiting for the podiums to be set. Yuuri ignores the camera flashes.

Without his glasses, Yuuri can’t see well to the rink side when he stands on the podium. He wouldn’t be able to see all that well with glasses, though, because his eyes are watering, and not only because of the countless camera flashes. He pulls Yuri and Guang-Hong onto the top tier with him and smiles through his tears. This is by far one of the happiest moments he has ever had on ice, and he gets to share it with his friends, which makes it all the better.

The voices in the overhead speakers do a recount on Yuuri’s entire career while Yuuri poses for way too many pictures alone and with Yuri and Guang-Hong. He tries to wave at his fans between poses, tries to ignore the praises about his artistry and form, tries to not count the hours until he can see Viktor and Evgenia again. By the time he thanks the photographers and heads towards the opening to spend the next twenty minutes alone in the locker room before the press conference Yuuri feels dead on his feet, eagerly looking forward to finally taking off his skates and having a shower.

He is stopped, though, just a few steps off the rink, by a familiar voice softly calling his name. Too familiar, in fact, as the owner of the voice should in Yuuri’s understanding be in St Petersburg, not in Montreal. But when Yuuri turns to look, there Viktor is, slightly hiding in the shadows, Evgenia bundled in a sling and seemingly fast asleep despite the noise in the arena.

There’s nothing Yuuri can say when he runs towards Victor. His blade guards slip on the floor but Victor catches him by the arm and then pulls him into an embrace, careful not to crush Zhenya between them.

“You were so beautiful”, Viktor keeps whispering into Yuuri’s ear, over and over again. “So beautiful, _solnyshko_.” Viktor’s voice is tight with emotion, and Yuuri gets taken by another wave of tears as his hands cling to the back of Viktor’s jacket. He has no idea if Viktor had actually seen his free skate live or if Viktor just knows, and it doesn’t even matter. What matters is that his family is here, on the last day of his life as a competitive figure skater, and in that moment the future doesn’t scare him. Yuuri has everything he could ever want right here.

Yuuri confirms two things in the press conference, feeling slightly bad being the talk of the month over Yuri’s silver and Guang-Hong’s very first Worlds medal. At the very beginning Yuuri answers a reporter that yes, he is indeed retiring, as he said he would in an Instagram post after last December’s Japanese national championships. This is hardly a surprise to anyone, but Yuuri knows how the magazines want actual footage of him saying it, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. He’s quite sure Yuri is doing it in his stead, anyway.

At the end of the conference Yuuri makes his second announcement, after talking it through with Viktor in the locker rooms beforehand. Because of Viktor’s sudden appearance in Montreal with Zhenya literally attached to him they have deemed it appropriate to address the new addition to their family.

“I believe I will very much enjoy just being at home, for a good while”, Yuuri answers to a question about what he intends to do now that he is retired. He gives the reporter a small smile. “Spending time with my husband and my daughter. That is sure to keep me occupied for – well, I’d say the next eighteen years or so.”

The joke is buried under the swarm of questions and the increasing amount of camera flashes aimed at Viktor, standing at the back of the room. Yuuri is glad Phichit has already taken Zhenya back to the hotel, as she would certainly have woken up to the assaulting noise. People ask about Evgenia, how old she is and where she came from and details of their adoption process, and Viktor is decisively tight lipped. He might be a big social media person, but that doesn’t mean he (or Yuuri) is keen on sharing their daughter with the world. Not yet, anyway, not when she’s so small and defenseless.

What they do tell the reporters are a few facts. That Evgenia is an almost nine weeks old very healthy baby girl, anticipated and wanted, and someone who means everything to them. That right now she is their main focus, and they will not be announcing any future career decisions in the coming months. That they wish for understanding and space, as Evgenia certainly doesn’t need paparazzi following them through St Petersburg before she even knows how to run from them herself.

Yuuri and Viktor leave the arena soon after that, ignoring follow ups from the reporters and making lunch plans with Celestino for the next day. In the shuttle on their way to the hotel Yuuri cries a little again, if only for the fact that he is happy, and Viktor holds his hand and kisses the top of his head where he’s leaning against Viktor’s shoulder. When they reach their hotel room, Phichit has fallen asleep on the couch with Zhenya tucked safely between his chest and the couch. Viktor takes a dozen pictures before they wake Phichit up, promising to take him to dinner sometime soon as a thank you.

“No worries”, Phichit grins sleepily at them as he makes his way to the door. “I got really cute footage and got to spend quality time with skating world’s favorite baby. I’m happy with that, believe me – but I won’t say no to some authentic imported sake!”

Closing the door behind Phichit, Yuuri turns to see Viktor setting Zhenya down in the middle of the bed, placing pillows on either side in the off chance that she’d move enough in her sleep to reach the edge.

“This is the best surprise you’ve ever given me”, Yuuri says quietly, only briefly wondering if Viktor will be offended when he dismisses all his other surprises that easily.

But Viktor just beams at Yuuri, eyes still tired (Yuuri can only imagine what it must have been like with Zhenya on such a long flight across the world) but so full of affection as he sits down on the edge of the bed and holds out a hand for Yuuri. And Yuuri goes willingly, without thinking, burying himself into Viktor’s side and breathing in the scent of home.

“This is it”, he whispers to the quiet room, and Viktor draws patterns on his upper arm. “This is the end.”

Viktor hums and presses a kiss on Yuuri’s hair. “And also the beginning.”

Cliché as it may be, Yuuri likes the sound of that.

Viktor is a spectacle the next day on the rink side, when he takes back over coaching Yuuri for the last time – even if it is only for the exhibition. Zhenya is in her sling against his chest, the only visible parts of her being her feet and the top of her head, covered in a soft beanie with cat ears. Exhibition practice is even less formal than the other public practices of any Grand Prix event, skaters mostly goofing around on the ice and barely managing to learn the group choreography for the closing ceremony. Yuuri enjoys the practice wholeheartedly, stopping by every few minutes to smile at Viktor.

The press is having a field day, cameras going wild as everyone tries to get the first picture of “the skating world’s most anticipated baby” as Phichit has dubbed Zhenya. But Viktor keeps her shielded, no one gets to see her face without his permission, and Yuuri loves him for it, especially as he knows how badly Viktor wants to fill his social media with the pictures he keeps taking of her. Yuuri knows he can’t hide her from the world forever, but he doesn’t want her face on BuzzFeed before they have learned the basics of a family life together.

As the gold medalist of the men’s singles, Yuuri skates last in the gala. He watches the other performers with his arm around Viktor’s waist, softly singing along to two songs he knows the lyrics to, making faces to Zhenya once she wakes up. He’s aware that one or two cameras are constantly trained on him, and he’s a little annoyed about that; there are brilliant athletes, excellent performers on the ice, why are they filming someone who’s not even paying attention to anyone else most of the time? But years in the sport has taught Yuuri a thing or two, and he believes he can manage one more exhibition being in the spot light if it means he can focus on his family after that.

Yuuri feels less melancholy and more joyful when he skates to the middle of the rink for his exhibition skate. The routine is something they have been working on since Four Continents Championships, a brand new piece Yuuri will probably only perform this once. It’s not only a dance choreographed with Evgenia in mind – it’s also a farewell to the world of competitive skating, to his fans, a thank you for the years he’s had their support. It’s fun and playful, and Yuuri smiles throughout it. Video clips of Viktor dancing with Zhenya go viral before the gala is over, as well as the pictures of Yuuri leaping out to hug his family as soon as his skate is over.

That night, on the plane back home to Russia, Yuuri thinks about the little boy in Hasetsu who saw a beautiful boy skate like he was born on the ice. Never in a thousand years would that boy have believed he’d someday be here, with his husband and their daughter, retired and happy and in love. It was a long journey, full of mistakes and happy surprises and heartbreak and overwhelming emotions, but Yuuri is so, _so_ happy they made it to the next level.

**Author's Note:**

> the song i imagined for the exhibition is Have It All, by Jason Mraz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFkTu8Y1KLs


End file.
